


Stellar Nebula

by orphan_account



Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Outer Space, Sex in Space, Smut, Space Opera, Technology, space western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22366327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ezra and you make time to explore developing feelings.
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Stellar Nebula

Travelling off-world is about as common as anything these days. Although, some impoverished have never seen space before while others have never even been on a planet. Being born and raised on a spacecraft is also as common as anything these days. You’re one of them, in fact.

Everyone is well-versed in space-tech, too, as a measure of precaution in case you were to ever find yourself stranded in the middle of inky black, airless, soundless space. It’s the way things are now; everybody is poor save for the upper-class living the high life in the Capital. Funnily enough, the Capital isn’t even a planet, it’s just a city built atop an unusually large asteroid. 

All you need is a Navigation Keycard to get you access to almost anywhere, but not the Capital. Only big names are allowed such a privilege. You’re not a big name, nobody in your family is a big name, and you aren’t acquaintances with any big names, so you suppose you’ll just have to keep traversing the Outer Rim in order to get by. 

Everybody practically sells their trade, the one thing they’re exceptionally good at, for a negotiable price. It does most people well, assuming they’ve got a wanted skill then other people are willing to pay hefty sums for any sort of independent service. Corporations steal far too much, and that makes this a lawless universe for sure.

You’re a mercenary. There’s not much that you won’t do for the right amount. Although, contrary to popular belief, not every job ends in a fight. There’s been many a time where you’d managed to talk your way out. You like to think you’d be a decent politician, if only you cared about politics. 

You grew up on a giant ship that’s basically a floating city. Your parents were both techies that ran all around fixing this and that. It’s what you were raised to do, but, like any other poor, lonely child, you longed for something more. A few years have passed since you left, so apparently that more wasn’t that much more. 

At some point, you’d found yourself in the presence of a ship captain and, through a mixture of persuasion and desperation, a new crew to be apart of. You became exactly what your parents raised you to be, but at least you get to travel to the various city-states of the galaxy. And the captain doesn’t mind you roaming off once in a while as long you as you report back at the assigned time. 

Anyway, this crew is where you met Ezra. His life is as much of a mystery to you as yours is to him. In fact, nobody here knows each other’s pasts, not unless they wanted you to know. It’s half not being asked and half refusing to answer what little is asked. But you work collectively as a family and that’s all that matters. 

Ezra, though, you clicked with him faster and better than anyone else. Perhaps it was his personable nature, the so-called ‘nice guy’ out of all of you. What he offered was a general array of skills and an uncanny likeness that tricked people into trusting him right off the bat. Like everybody else, he puts forth unwavering loyalty… until a better offer comes along.

He seems genuine to you, but… you don’t know. He’s not the first guy you’ve ever  _ liked _ by far, and you honestly don’t know what’s so different this time around. Well, one glaring difference is you’re no longer a naive teenager. Just a naive adult still feeling butterflies in her stomach every single time Ezra so much as glances in your direction. Point is, there’s no one here to tell you what you can and can’t do involving him, so maybe you should just go for it. 

Lost in your rampant thoughts, staring dreamily out of the circular window at the stars, you’re not expecting the sudden knock that resonates throughout your small room. 

“Come in,” you shout, standing up from your seat and setting the book you’d not been reading down. 

The door slides open with an awful squeak, revealing none other than Ezra on the other side. His hair is a disheveled mess, as it always is, that rogue blond streak so distinct amid all the dark neutral he wears. Tanned face smudged with grease or dirt, those weathered lines still somehow brighten his face as he smiles.

“Care to go on an adventure with me?”

You smile back, eager as ever. “Where to?”

“Engine room. It’s rattling something awful and, frankly, irritating the lot of us.”

Your eyebrow raises in amusement. “Nevermind that a problem to the engine could be something seriously dangerous and we could all potentially blow up, our screams silenced by the fact there is no sound in space.”

It’s his turn to raise an amused eyebrow, chuckling as he does so. “Terribly dramatic, you are. Better quit reading those romance novels you got, you’re starting to sound like those fancy ladies from the Inner Rim.”

“Whatever,” you reply, grabbing your toolkit, “let’s go fix the engine for the umpteenth time.” 

You walk past him out of the doorway, breath hitching at the mere close proximity of his chest to your shoulder. Perhaps you’re more like those fancy ladies from the Inner Rim than you thought. 

~ ~ ~

Ezra was right, this rattling is annoying. Deafening, even. Luckily, by the looks of things, it should be an easy fix. It just seems a belt has popped off as they are prone to do by prolonged use of old parts, causing it to rattle around the junction with the constant vibration of the engine itself. The only tricky part is that everything is scalding hot because the ship is currently in use. 

Oh well, you’ve got enough burns from working various projects over the years anyway. 

“You understand machines so well, it’s amazing to watch, truth be told,” Ezra states, breaking the silence between you two.

You thank whatever force is working in your favor that he’s unable to see the blush spreading across your face as you’re elbow-deep in work. “It’s nothing special, really. Just my job, anyway,” you reply, hoping the bashfulness isn’t too evident in your inflection. 

“Nonsense! Only you could stand fixing the same old engine time after time, always quicker than the last one. Me? I’m just average at everything, but you? You’re the most skilled person with space-tech I’ve ever met.”

“Honestly, Ezra,” you say, standing back up, now with an arm drenched in grease and a heart beating out of your chest “I’m just putting a belt back in place.”

“True.” He leans in close as if whispering to you a secret. “Although, I haven’t seen many a fight won with an automated wrench.” Such a knowing smile… you could swoon right here, right now. 

“They were being unreasonable.”

Hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, sometimes negotiating doesn’t work and that’s okay.”

A lull. Your hands wringing together as you look anywhere but at him.

“Truly though, you are very cute all focused on your work and the like.”

Now you can’t look anywhere except at him. “Are you… flirting with me?”

He chuckles awkwardly if Ezra is capable of being awkward, saying “If you’re alright with me doing so.”

“Yes.” Your answer is immediate and you hope the desperation isn’t apparent because that would be embarrassing. 

“Hm, are you alright with me kissing you, too?”

You laugh nervously, eyes dropping to the floor in timidity. “Yes.”

A step forward, another step, you can feel the heat radiating off of him even in the sweltering air of the engine room. His calloused hand brushes against your cheek, impossibly gentle despite having killed a multitude of enemies in the past. His lips when they touch yours are soft, molding so perfectly that you wish you could turn back time and redo this first kiss again and again.

It starts off sweet and sensual, getting used to each other, but then Ezra is pushing you back against the railing, hands sliding everywhere they can get to and lips trailing down to your neck. The moan you let loose is involuntary and causes his grip on your hips to tighten as the bulge in his pants grows larger. 

“IN ORBIT TO ANDROMEDA”

The ship’s automated announcement system breaks the two of you apart, albeit slowly and reluctantly because you both know your captain is going to be wondering where you are soon enough. 

“We have enough time to-” you start, interrupted by Ezra.

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to propose.”

He takes your hand and drags you along back out into the cargo hold. “My room’s closer.”

Apparently he does. 

Empty and void of anything sentimental is what his room looks like. It’s just a place to sleep and nothing more to him. You don’t know why your heart clenches at the thought. Regardless, you eye him from your seat on his bed as he shuts and bars the door for privacy. 

When he moves towards you, he removes his shirt with one swift motion and tosses it carelessly to the ground. An array of scars litter his tanned body just as an array of scars litter yours. This way of life is most unkind and unforgiving to all.

When he finally reaches you, towering over you and staring with so many emotions in those dark eyes, he gives you one lingering, sensual kiss before removing your own shirt for you. Instead of a standard bra, you opt for wrapping your breasts in medical cloth. It makes for an easier morning considering showers are a luxury few can afford. That, and because medical cloth is a much more common find than bras. 

Ezra doesn’t say a word about it, kneeling atop the bed and pushing you back against the pillow. Hovering over you, lips sliding over yours, hands sliding everywhere—it’s charging you up and the electricity between you is undeniable. 

There are stars behind your eyes as his lips trail lower, feeling him pushing your pants down and mapping the expanse of your stomach with his mouth. An obvious shudder ripples through you the second his fingers brush against you. Dark brown eyes flick up to your own while he licks a single strip up your clit. 

It takes all of your willpower to not come right then and there. 

His hands are gripping your thighs wrapped around his neck and each flick of his tongue combined with the scratch of his facial against your apex has you gasping for a breath you can’t seem to get enough of. 

He drinks up every last bit as you orgasm for the first of many times. 

Standing back up to remove his own pants, he eyes you spread for him on his bed. Chest heaving and beads of sweat beginning to form along your forehead. From your perspective, watching as his member springs free from the confines of his pants, his body wrapped in the low light of his desk lamp, you bite your lip to prevent a delirious smile breaking forth. 

You reach a hand out, feeling oddly satisfied when Ezra grasps it in his own, and pull his form towards you. The anticipation is nonexistent as he slides into you so slowly and languidly, pausing only to revel in the existence of such an intimate occasion. His finger brushes along your cheek just as before and it feels as though there is a stellar nebula surrounding your bodies connected together. 

Your gasps and moans and his exerted grunting must be heard from outside by the rest of the crew, but these feelings, these emotions are too powerful, too passionate to just throw away based on slight embarrassment. His pace is set and only speeds up as he feels your walls clenching for another climax. 

And when you do, stronger than before, he releases inside of you, groaning at the ecstasy hazing his mind. You are so beautiful to him, scars, wrap, grease and all. 

He hasn’t even pulled out of you yet, just laying atop you and catching his breath, when there’s a loud knock on the door. “If you’re done fucking, the captain’s ordered us to meet in the hold for briefing.”

The blush is back, spreading evenly across your face and neck, but Ezra only smiles mockingly. “You’ll find no such decorum here, apparently.”

He has such a strange way of wording things, but perhaps it was what made you fall for him in the first place.


End file.
